


The Patron Saint of Drunken Sex

by ImogenPortchester



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, M/M, Warped Tour 2005, warped2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26673352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImogenPortchester/pseuds/ImogenPortchester
Summary: Gerard doesn’t call himself the patron saint of drunken sex for no reason.Warped 2020 prompt: Drunk Sex
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36
Collections: Warped 2020





	The Patron Saint of Drunken Sex

Gerard is on fire today, if he does say so himself. This crowd is rowdy and unforgiving but he’s got them eating out of the palm of his hand. He feeds on their energy, consumes it and spits it back at them like a fireball. Getting sober has only made it easier for him. If you had asked him a year ago to perform stone cold sober he would’ve told you to mind your own fucking business, asshole. But now he’s clear-headed on stage and his voice sounds better than ever. Not being wasted has its perks and one of Gerard’s favorites is control: control of his voice and control of his own mind and body.

The rest of the band exudes this energy too. They’re killing it and they all know it. Even Mikey is bobbing around the stage more than usual. Gerard glances at Frank: playing on his knees, head-banging and drooling. Gerard smirks and spits his venom at the crowd.

Immediately after their set Frank cracks open a beer as soon as he hands his guitar off to the tech. He gulps down half of it then runs a palm over his sweaty face. Gerard is handed a towel and a bottle of water then they all pant like dogs and slap each other on the back. Someone mumbles something about not wanting to have to follow that, and yeah, it really was a killer fucking show.

Right after a show they all like to take a little time to decompress individually. Since Gerard quit drinking he finds that the best place to do that is on the bus, away from the party and temptation. He makes a mug of Throat Coat tea, changes into a dry t-shirt, and hunkers down in his bunk to sketch absent-mindedly for a while. He hears people move in and out of the bus but he’s content in his cocoon. He only rolls out of the bunk when it gets dark outside and his stomach starts to grumble. As he’s rummaging in the over-stuffed cupboards for something edible his cell phone rings.

“Hey, Frankie.”

“Gee! You’ve, oh man, you’ve gotta come geh me.”

Frank sounds… absolutely wasted.

“You okay, babe?” Gerard balances the phone between his shoulder and ear while spreading peanut butter onto an animal cracker. He pops it into his mouth with little regard for the quality of phone conversation this will make.

“I’m, fuck—HEY! GET OFF!” It sounds like the phone clatters to the ground but he can still hear Frank laughing wildly in the background. “That fuckin’ guy…”

Well at least he’s okay, Gerard thinks. “I’ll come get you. Where are you?”

“’M with uh, Pete and those guys…” More giggling. “I’m in Pete’s bunk! Patrick, get off! No, hey! There’s no more room for you in here!”

“I’ll be there in a few.”

Gerard shakes his head in response to Bob and Ray’s raised eyebrows. It’s all the reassurance they need to continue their game of Mario Kart.

The Fall Out Boy bus isn’t hard to find nor is it particularly far away but Frank acts like he’s traipsing the Sahara on their way back, which must make Gerard his camel with the way Frank’s hanging all over him. The amount of shit Frank almost trips over (or the many pairs of watching eyes they pass) doesn’t seem to deter his attempts to grab at Gerard’s crotch. It’s difficult to slap his hands away and hold him upright at the same time but somehow Gerard manages.

With the oasis that is the MCR tour bus in view Frank only seems to grow bolder in his flirtations, if that’s what you could call them. _Gropings_ , Gerard’s mind supplies.

Gerard bangs open the door to the bus, startling Bob, Ray, and now Mikey where they’re all still congregated on the couch playing Mario Kart and eating Gerard’s animal crackers, the fuckers. Of course, none of them get up to offer any assistance.

“Frank, c’mon, you can do it.”

“I can’t do STAIRS righ’ now!”

“Yes, you can, you just walked all the way over here.”

Frank looks at Gerard like telling him that his legs do in fact work is the biggest betrayal he’s ever experienced.

Gerard squeezes his shoulder and pulls him toward the stairs.

“I’ve got you. It’s just four steps.”

“But they’re so big.” Frank’s face collapses into Gerard’s neck and he snickers, his breath hot on Gerard’s skin. “Y’know what else is big?” His hand drifts to Gerard’s dick and Frank gets himself a good handful before Gerard can slap him away. Bob blushes uncomfortably and Mikey just shakes his head, eyes instantly back on the game. Ray stares like he’s watching a train wreck, and okay, Gerard thinks, maybe he kind of is…

Frank finally lets Gerard get a hand under his armpit and giggles some more when Gerard hefts him up as best as he can. He plops Frank down onto the couch next to the others and Ray shudders, abandoning his controller and leaves out the way they came in.

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna go see who’s playing right now…” Bob awkwardly follows his bandmate.

Mikey just shakes his head again, dusts crumbs off of his jeans, and leisurely strolls off the bus as well, leaving the door slightly ajar because he’s forever in little brother mode. Gerard pulls it closed with a frustrated slam and turns back, hands on hips, to look at Frank.

It’s not like they’ve told anyone that they do this but… it’s a small bus and Frank has very little volume control when he’s drunk off his ass. Gerard doesn’t think they’ve done this _that_ many times but the other guys all seem certain that it’s about to get nasty in here. They’re right, of course, but Gerard had at least thought he was _trying_ to be private about it.

They used to have sex all the time when they were both drunk and that was fine. When Gerard got sober, however, the idea of fucking Frank while he was drunk felt like taking advantage of him, so Gerard put a stop to it. Frank felt differently, though.

“I just like the feeling of sex when I’m drunk,” Frank explained dreamily. “Like, I’m looser so it’s easier and I’m just so fucking relaxed.” He smiled contentedly. “Fewer inhibitions and all that. And it means that you have to manhandle me into position, get me just how you want me ‘cause I can’t do it on my own.” He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and grinned with it between his teeth.

“Jesus,” Gerard nearly choked on the Diet Coke he’d been sipping at the time. “You make it sound like you want to be Rufied.”

Frank just blushed lightly and ducked his head. “Maybe,” he admitted quietly. “But at least this way I get to remember it in the morning… usually.” Gerard’s eyes went wide at the thought that Frank just might be okay with something so bat-shit crazy and Gerard knew he was absolutely fucked.

Frank wastes no time now that they’re alone. He drops to his knees and crawls to where Gerard is standing at the top of the stairs.

Frank attempts to kneel up to paw at Gerard’s chest but when Gerard moves backwards so Frank can’t lean on him for support, he’s forced to put a hand on the floor behind him to steady himself.

Gerard takes a moment to look him over and take it all in. Frank is at that perfect state of drunk where he’s simultaneously energetic and sluggish, trying his hardest to get at Gerard’s body but the drunken weight of his limbs not allowing him to move the way he wants to. At first Gerard had tried not to find this a turn on, he really did, but knowing that Frank wants it so badly just gives him a high that no pills ever could.

He takes the single step up from the stairwell and looms over Frank for a moment before leaning down to grab him roughly by the hair and crash their mouths together. Surprised, Frank reaches up with both arms to wrap them around Gerard’s shoulders but he falls backwards. Gerard catches him before his head can meet the floor and Frank giggles, “Mah say-vior” in the worst southern belle accent Gerard has ever heard. 

Gerard straightens up and hauls Frank off the floor by both arms and deposits him into Frank’s (fortunately) bottom bunk.

“C’mon baby, I want you to suck my dick.” Frank tries to sit up but nearly hits his head and thunks it down on the pillow instead.

“Hold on, Frankie.” Gerard leaves for a moment and returns with a bottle of water and the waste basket from the bathroom, just in case. He makes Frank take several large gulps before he crawls into the bunk next to him, where Frank’s mouth immediately latches onto his and the taste of beer makes Gerard’s stomach tighten with want. Gerard snakes a hand between their bodies and wastes no time unzipping Frank’s jeans. He struggles with the button for a moment and Frank just giggles, offering no help. When Gerard finally frees Frank’s dick from his pants Frank moans like a virgin. A drunk virgin.

It takes him a little longer than it would sober to reach full hardness but Frank lights up under Gerard’s ministrations, his mouth hot on Gerard’s and his hands pushing up Gerard’s shirt so he can pinch his nipples the way he likes. Gerard gets out of the bunk to pull off his shirt then kneels on the floor. He hauls Frank’s legs over the edge and into position and Frank props himself up with both arms outstretched behind him. He smiles fondly as Gerard opens his legs to settle himself between them. Gerard wastes no time getting his lips around Frank’s cock, mouthing the tip and lapping at the underside. Frank reaches a hand out to Gerard’s head and tells him, “C’mon babe, fuck. You look so good down there.”

Not as good as Frank looks, Gerard thinks. He’s totally blissed out and they’ve only just begun. When Gerard swallows him down to the base Frank’s eyes roll back in his head and his mouth hangs open. After a few minutes Frank’s moans grow quieter and practically cease, so Gerard pulls off and looks up only to be met with the sight of Frank’s chin resting on his chest, eyes peacefully closed.

As many seasoned drinkers could tell you, there comes a point in the night when you hit a wall and all the energy just leaves your body instantly. Gerard sighs and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. So much for Frank wanting his dick sucked. His boyfriend opens his eyes and grins when Gerard jostles Frank’s legs back into the bunk.

“Are you gonna fuck me now?” Frank rolls onto his side, back facing Gerard.

Gerard runs an affectionate hand over Frank’s flank. “If you can stay awake.”

“Don’ you worry ‘bout me. I can fuck all night.”

Gerard smirks. “If you say so.” He rummages through Frank’s duffle until he finds lube and a condom then shucks his pajama pants and underwear off in one motion. Once back in the bunk he tugs Frank’s jeans down past his knees (with little help from the man himself), slicks his fingers then wriggles them between Frank’s ass cheeks. Frank giggles but pushes back onto Gerard’s hand as he fingers him open. “You’re a needy slut, aren’t you?” He whispers and his moist breath on Frank’s ear forces a moan from the younger man. That shit always gets Frank going.

“Ohhh Gee, yeah. Fuck, I need you inside me.”

Once Gerard feels satisfied with the stretch of Frank’s hole he rolls on the condom and generously applies lube to himself. He sinks completely in on the first slow push and yeah, Frank really is looser like this, just like he said. That fact never ceases to surprise Gerard. “Uhh god. That’s good, Frankie.”

Frank quietly takes Gerard’s thrusts for a while and Gerard almost thinks he’s falling asleep again until Frank looks over his shoulder, lips parted, angling for a kiss. Who is Gerard to deny him such a thing? With his mouth attached to Frank’s, Gerard’s thrusts become faster and harder. He’s getting close and he wants to make sure Frank gets off too. Fucking your wasted bandmate then leaving him to pass out before the guy even comes is definitely something that makes Gerard feel all rapey inside. No thanks.

Luckily, Frank looks like he’ll have no trouble, with the way he’s rocking back into Gerard’s thrusts. He’s panting and his eyes are delightfully rolling back in his head when Gerard catches a glimpse of his face again. He whimpers when Gerard wraps a hand around his dick and that sound is enough to bring Gerard over the edge. He slams into Frank with one last forceful thrust and spills into the condom. He stills for a moment to catch his breath but Frank whimpers at the loss of movement. “Mmm I wanna come, Gee…” he whispers.

“Okay,” Gerard redoubles his efforts, stroking Frank’s weeping cock, twisting his wrist and rubbing a fingertip over the slit. “Come on baby, you can do it.”

He rocks into Gerard’s palm and finally, just as Gerard’s wrist is starting to ache, comes with a soft grunt. Gerard pulls out and removes the condom, tying it off and dropping it into the waste basket next to his head. Frank sighs and clumsily rolls over to face Gerard, knocking their knees together harshly—painful for Gerard, though Frank doesn’t even flinch. His eyes slip closed and with his hands curled up under his chin he looks like the perfect picture of drunken innocence, something very few people can achieve, Gerard has found. He smacks his lips a couple times then is fucking out cold, leaving Gerard to be the one to fetch a damp paper towel.

Honestly, Gerard thinks, he should be awarded a medal. He should be known to people across the lands as the patron saint of drunken sex, what with how goddamn attentive he is.

He wipes Frank down, throws a blanket over him to hide his nakedness, then readjusts the waste basket so it’s closer to Frank’s head. (Really, you would think blowing somebody next to their future puke bucket would be a turn-off, but what can he say? Gerard’s the patron saint of drunken sex after all—it comes with the territory.) He pets Frank’s hair for a moment, redresses himself in his pajamas, and smiles before going back out to the common room to retrieve his animal crackers and peanut butter. He climbs into his bunk—the one directly above Frank’s—and munches while reading for a little while.

After some time Frank groans, “Fucking peanut butter stinks, oh my god,” and he heaves into the waste basket. Gerard peeks down to make sure Frank didn’t get any vomit on the floor and nope, Gerard’s perfect puke bucket placement never fails. He climbs down to look at his pitiful boyfriend and tells him, “Rinse your mouth out, babe.” Frank does, spits water into the waste basket then is instantly unconscious again. Gerard pulls the liner out and heads out to find somewhere to throw it away so it doesn’t stink up the bus. He lights up a cigarette and strolls leisurely. He smiles and thinks that Frank sure is one lucky motherfucker, as he hefts the bag over the lip of the Dumpster.


End file.
